


As the Sun Will Rise

by sidewalksofny



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-01 23:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4037962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidewalksofny/pseuds/sidewalksofny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam can’t remember whose idea it was to take an overnight bus from London to Edinburgh, but it definitely wasn’t his.</p><p>For the wonderful glasshouse!</p>
            </blockquote>





	As the Sun Will Rise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



“I can’t wait to try some haggis,” Niall announces to the night air. The warm October sun from earlier has been replaced by a cool breeze, but Niall looks completely comfortable in a loose fitting tank and gym shorts. Which Liam supposes makes sense, given that he’s a New England lax bro.

Next to him, Zayn snorts. “Bro, you do realize what they put in that shit, right?”

Niall steps back, offended but undeterred. “Zayn, please. Kindly hop off my dick. I’m trying to encourage exploration of foreign cultures here. You’ll join me, right, Li?”

Liam falls behind for a second as he pauses to readjust his bag before jogging the few steps to catch up, silently cursing himself for turning his nose up at the wheeled luggage about four hours into his mom’s massive Study Abroad Shopping Spree over the summer. Wheels had looked so silly and unnecessary under the fluorescent lighting of the department store, but now, with the nylon strap cutting deep into his shoulder, Liam’s seriously regretting his choices.

“I dunno,” he replies honestly. “Figure I might as well, right? Not like I’m planning on visiting Scotland again anytime soon.”

“I’m in, too,” Harry decides, laughing as Niall cheers and reaches out for a high five.

“And we can’t forget about the kilt situation, either,” Niall adds with a cheeky grin, catching Liam’s eye and giving him a wink. “Definitely gonna need to check that one out. You know. For the sake of diplomatic unity or whatever.”

“I always thought that was just a rumor!” Liam gapes with widening eyes. “You think it’s true?”

Harry’s forehead creases beneath his bandanna as he frowns, confused and left out. “What’s a rumor? What’s true?”

Despite having met them all barely six weeks earlier in orientation, Zayn lets loose a long-suffering sigh from Harry’s other side. “Traditionally, they’re not supposed to wear anything underneath,” he answers.

Liam feels his cheeks redden as Harry’s eyes suddenly glow with understanding and a smile spreads across his face, his imagination taking over. Niall cackles loudly. “Definitely worth investigating, eh, boys? Gotta be sure they’re being proper Scotsmen up there, patriotic and all that.”

Liam’s about to suggest that maybe investigating the presence or lack thereof of complete strangers’ undergarments in a foreign country might not be terribly polite when his thoughts are interrupted by a loud “FUCK!” from Zayn. They’ve reached the Victoria coach station now, and Zayn is staring up at the departures sign, evidently near panic. “They shifted the schedule—we’re late!”

~

After a frantic sprint and a few unfortunate wrong turns (and several rushed apologies to the poor young man who’d been holding all those papers; Liam feels terrible but they just don’t have time to stop and help), they make it to the bus with a scant few minutes to spare, hurling their bags under the bus and racing up the steps to board. Harry, Zayn, and Niall luck out and find three seats together near the middle, leaving Liam to push through the crowded bus on his own, though only Harry has the decency to at least pretend to look regretful.

Liam makes his way back, eyes carefully sweeping each row, but the only seats left, it seems, are the four making up the very back row of the bus, right next to the toilet. With a sigh of resignation, Liam crawls across the seats and tucks himself into the far corner opposite the toilet, gazing firmly out the window and praying for the long trip to start already. Hopefully it won’t get too stinky. And if no one else shows up, Liam assures himself, he’ll be able to stretch out along the empty bench and get some semblance of a night’s sleep. He can’t remember whose idea it was to take an overnight bus from London to Edinburgh, but it definitely wasn’t his.

Finally the driver turns the lights off in preparation and Liam lets his head thunk gently on the glass. He doesn’t know too much about Edinburgh, just a bit of the basic history and geography, a couple of castles and bridges. He’d certainly never given it much thought before Niall had swung into his room three days earlier and announced they were all going. But it sounds nice. His sister Nicola had gasped and started off an unintelligible rant when he’d mentioned the trip, but he’d only caught “HARRY POTTER.” He’d probably find out soon enough.

“Anyone sitting here?”

Liam jumps at the question and looks up, peering in the darkness. Apparently they hadn’t quite been the last ones on, if the small, slightly panting figure above him is any indication.

“Nope, no one, go right ahead!” Liam answers. Feeling a bit caught off-guard, he sits up quickly and straightens himself, as if to make room for the stranger. As if there weren’t already four empty seats next to him, he thinks stupidly.

“Great, thanks.” It’s too dark to make out any features, but Liam can hear the smile in his voice as his new neighbor sits down, leaving a respectful seat between them, and turns to face Liam.

“So, where you headed, mate? Edinburgh the final stop or just a layover for ya? ’M Louis, by the way.”

It’s a bright, engaging voice with a warm British accent (Liam’s been in London long enough to know that there are countless British accents, but not nearly long enough to be able to discern one from the other), and Liam certainly wouldn’t mind being able to see the face belonging to it, but instead he just sighs with regret. And then remembers he was asked a question.

“Oh, um, just going to Edinburgh for the weekend with some friends,” he finally gets out. “You?”

“I’m on m—“

“OH, and I’m Liam! Sorry, you said your name but I never said mine, so. Yes. I’m Liam. Sorry.”

There’s a shocked pause before Louis bursts into laughter beside him, merry and light. “It’s fine, mate, I promise. I’m hardly the etiquette police m’self. As I was _saying_ …” Louis leans closer and Liam can hear the teasing grin in his voice “I’m up to visit family for a couple of days. My mum’s sister and her family live just outside of Edinburgh and the youngest has a birthday on Wednesday so, generous and loving cousin that I am, I thought I’d shower them all with the fruits of my labor,” he says, patting the bag on his far side.

“Oh, what do you do?” Liam asks, interested, as he turns to face Louis a bit more.

“Tree surgeon!” Louis answers brightly. “Got into it from a connection through my stepdad, and it’s somehow both very complicated and terribly unexciting, but the short story is I work with trees and the pay isn’t shabby, so I’ve no complaints.”

Liam’s pretty sure any pay is better than the zero pay he’s making as a student and is about to tell Louis as much when something outside the window catches his eye, and he immediately gasps and plasters his face and hands against the glass, gaping. “Oh my god, a Toys ‘R’ Us!! I didn’t know you had those over here! I love those! I mean, loved those, I don’t go to those anymore, of course.”

Liam clears his throat nervously and settles back in his seat, but Louis’ giggles next to him are warm and affectionate, a stark contrast from the harsh, ridiculing laughter he’d heard so often on the playgrounds growing up.

“I actually used to work as a stock boy in one of those when I was about sixteen,” Louis says fondly. “Not exactly a dream job of course but it had its perks. My sisters had a top-notch Christmas that year.”

They settle into comfortable, easy conversation, sharing details and stories about their lives—Louis is the oldest of countless siblings, funny, charming, and all-around perfect; Liam tries his best to make small-town Ohio sound absolutely thrilling—before launching into a detailed discussion of the various differences between the US and the UK. Louis turns away from Liam and refuses to speak for a full minute when Liam announces he prefers coffee to tea, but softens quickly when Liam suggests that maybe he just hasn’t had anyone make him a proper cuppa yet. Louis, it turns out, has been taking annual summer road trips through various parts of the US with his best friend Stan for years and has plenty of stories to regale Liam with as the miles and hours roll by as stupidly and easily as a cliché.

It’s just over seven hours from Point A to Point B—Liam had checked last night doing research for their trip and tentatively planning out the weekend—not that he wasn’t up for a bit of spontaneity, but he did want to have an idea about where they were going and what they were to do.  But Liam can hardly believe his phone when he checks the time and finds they’re almost halfway there. He gasps in shock—a gasp that quickly turns into a yawn as Liam suddenly realizes how tired he is.

“Didn’t realize wild alpaca chases were boring you over there—or maybe they happen all the time in Ohio?”

“Mmm?” When did Liam’s head get so heavy?

“Maybe we should try to get some sleep, yeah, love? Getting pretty late.”

Liam wants to listen to Louis’ voice more and almost asks him to keep talking til he falls asleep but he knows Louis needs to sleep too so he just murmurs an agreement before throwing out an arm to whack Louis gently on his side. “Wake me up if you’re up first though. Wanna see the city ‘n’ stuff when it gets light. Don’t wanna sleep through everything.”

Louis laughs softly and pats Liam’s hand where it’s now resting on his thigh, but doesn’t move it. “Course, love.”

~

It’s still dark out, maybe just a hint of pink on the horizon if he squints, when Liam’s jostled awake by the bus slowing to a halt. He rubs his eyes in confusion and tries to peer outside, and sees only a gas station and convenience store.

“Stopping to fill up the tank, you think?” he asks Louis through a yawn as he stretches his arms above his head.

“So sorry for the inconvenience, ladies and gentlemen,” the driver cuts in over the intercom, sounding as dead-tired as Liam feels, “but we seem to be having some engine trouble. We’ll take a look, but odds are we’ll have to send for another bus to bring us the rest of the way. If anyone would care to use the toilet or grab a bite, we’ll likely be here for a while.”

She flicks the lights on as she finishes speaking, the effect combined with what she’s just said eliciting a truly inspiring chorus of moans and groans from the sleep-weary passengers.

“Well, that’s a bit of a bother, innit?” Louis says beside him. Liam offers a grunt of agreement and turns to his left, making half a move to stand up, and wants to cry.

Louis is beautiful. Unfairly beautiful. Not in the ethereal, intimidating way that Zayn is—Liam has long since accepted and moved on from the undeniable fact that Zayn is not entirely of this world—but in a warm, sleep-soft way that makes Liam want to melt into his side and never leave. A feathery fringe peeks out from beneath a knit beanie, and he’s wearing a T-shirt advertising a band Liam doesn’t recognize. There are cheekbones and biceps and a definite shape beneath loose trackies that are all screaming for attention, but he’s pretty sure Louis just said something and there are blue eyes trying to pierce his soul. Or something.

“Sorry, what?”

Louis smiles and dawn breaks. Angels sing. Liam is probably still dreaming. “I said, were you getting up, mate?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, if you don’t mind. Thanks.”

Louis stands up and moves aside so Liam can shuffle aside hurriedly, eyes fixed pointedly on the ground. He hears Louis call something out from behind him, but he can’t make it out as he presses down the aisle, noting that Harry, Niall, and Zayn have apparently already gotten off.

He finds Niall in the snack aisle of the convenience store, apparently literally weighing the pros and cons of sweet versus salty, a bag of popcorn in one hand and a pack of gummy worms in the other.

“Hey, Payno! Havin’ a good time, eh?” he shoots Liam a wink before returning his focus to the task at hand.

Liam’s head is still foggy from sleep and Louis and the lights are too bright. “What’re you talking about, Niall?”

“You and your boy toy in the back seat! You two were chattering and cackling away for fuckin’ hours back there—haven’t heard any zippers yet, but the night is young, right?” he nudges Liam playfully with his elbow as Liam chokes on air and turns eight shades of red.

“He’s not—I mean, we’re not—”

But his protestations are thankfully cut off by Harry unceremoniously dropping a vast array of health food into Niall’s arms, clearly very proud of himself. Liam catches glimpses of baked veggie snacks, granola, dried fruit, and yogurt-covered raisins before Niall sends it all crashing to the floor with a roar of disgust.

Liam turns and heads for the toilets, leaving Harry’s pleas for Niall to cleanse and nurture the temple of his body behind him.

~

It ends up being about an hour before the new bus arrives, and Louis is nowhere to be seen—Liam assumes he’s probably gone back to sleep, stretching out on the now-empty bench in the back. At any rate, Liam passes the time with his friends, trading in the early morning October chill for the harsh fluorescent lighting of the convenience store until Zayn forces them all out with him so he can have a smoke.

They’re all more or less zombies by the time the much-awaited headlights sweep into the parking lot, and the scattered passengers quickly huddle around the underside of the bus to transfer their luggage. Liam finds his bag fairly easily, it having been one of the last packed away, and tosses it under the new bus before climbing aboard.

The bus is only about half-full when Liam gets on this time around. People seem to sticking with the ‘same seats’ policy, but Liam, in a moment of panicked brilliance, impulsively decides to swing into a different seat, huddling against the window and hoping Louis doesn’t see him.

It’s perfect, really. Liam has it from multiple sources that he’s not a pretty sleeper by any definition. He’s reportedly been known to snore, drool, talk, make weird noises, breathe weird with his mouth wide open, touch himself, and/or sleep in the weirdest fucking positions, or any combination thereof. There’s probably a grossest sleeper contest out there waiting for him to become the eternal reigning champion.

It just makes sense, is all. This way, he reasons with himself, Louis’ first daylight image of Liam won’t be him snoring away with his mouth wide open, drool dripping down his chin and pooling on his shirt. This way, Liam doesn’t have to worry. It’s perfect.

He’s asleep before the driver starts the ignition.

~

This time, the sun wakes him. Liam checks his phone, and they’re nearly there—maybe twenty or thirty minutes away, if they’re running on time. Most of the bus is still sleeping; Harry is making some sort of snuffling noise into the neck of a fully unconscious Niall, Zayn has transcended into another state of being in his sleep, and Louis—Liam fights a cheesy sigh, even if no one is properly awake to hear. Louis is perfect, almost hilariously serene in comparison to how lively he’d been in conversation last night, hand cradled gently in his hand as he leans against the window he must’ve shifted next to once he realized Liam wasn’t coming back.

Liam feels a ping of guilt—he hopes Louis didn’t take it the wrong way. It’s just a bus ride, after all. He turns back to the window, eyes hungrily taking in as much of the new scenery as possible.

Edinburgh is _gorgeous_.

~

Liam fully intends to go up to Louis once they get off in Edinburgh—he really does.

But everything feels different in the daylight, more real and less forgiving, less possible. It was just a conversation. Just a bus ride. Louis doesn’t even look for him when he gets off the bus, Liam staring hard enough to kill from twenty feet away, just grabs his bag and heads off down the street without so much as a glance around.

It’s probably for the best, Liam thinks to himself. Louis has probably already forgotten him, probably was just striking up conversation to be friendly, that’s all. No big deal. Liam and the boys start off in the opposite direction, the other three excitedly pointing and chattering about where to head first, where to eat, what to see. They’ll remember to ask him about that boy he was talking to in a couple of hours at lunch. He’ll shrug them off and change the subject.

It’s for the best. It makes sense.

~

Liam is a fucking idiot.

What was he _thinking_? He meets this incredible, funny, smart, wonderful guy who asked questions about his life and _listened_ and made him laugh and laughed when he tried to be funny and he—completely sabotaged himself. Everyone sleeps; was it really necessary for him to panic like that over it? Why couldn’t he just be a normal fucking person and accept a good thing when it was placed in front of him instead of running away?

It’s weeks later and Liam still can’t stop thinking about Louis. He spaces out in seminar and has to pull out his best bullshitting techniques when the professor calls on him as he’s wondering how Louis would kiss him, where he would put his hands first, how his lips would feel. Liam completely misses his flat and ends up somewhere near Elephant and Castle while imagining surprising Louis with breakfast in bed, hair rumpled from sleep and sex. He walks past his usual study spot, a cozy Pret on the Strand, as he pictures Louis in the rain, Louis at the beach, Louis at the park, and decides to settle for the Nero across the street rather than waste time backtracking.

He gets in line behind a rather tall man in a peacoat and is about to start in on his daydreams again—he’d left off with Louis in a tuxedo—when he hears “That’ll be five quid, love,” directed at the woman two people ahead of him and freezes.

He’d know that voice anywhere.

There are three or four people behind the counter—Liam’s not too focused on counting at the moment—so the line moves along quickly, and by the time Liam remembers how to move his feet, Louis’ wiping down the counter in front him and asking “What’ll it be, love?” without even looking up.

It’s a goddamn miracle, but Liam finds his voice, tucked resolutely between the panic and adrenaline coursing through him, and forces it out. “So this is what tree surgeons do, huh?” It almost comes out nonchalant. Almost.

Louis’ head snaps up so fast it almost snaps off, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

Liam glances down at Louis’ handwritten nametag—hastily scrawled with a cheerful smiley face squeezed in—and decides to press on, “At least you told me your real name.”

“At least I didn’t leave you!”

It comes out so raw, clearly harsher and louder than either one of them expected, and Liam’s eyebrows shoot up as Louis claps a hand over his mouth before dropping his eyes to the counter, continuing with his cleaning.

“I didn’t—Louis, I didn’t mean—I just didn’t want you to hear me snore or see me sleep with my mouth wide open or—I just. I got scared. I’m sorry.”

Louis contemplates him quietly for a moment, the baristas around him handling the rest of the line. Liam’s about to turn and walk out, maybe head back to his usual Pret after all, when Louis stops him, voice barely above a whisper.

“It was just that I realized—you didn’t know me and I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. I could be anyone. I didn’t have to be the struggling actor working odd jobs to make ends meet. Tree surgeon’s the first thing I thought of. Don’t even know a thing about trees or surgery,” Louis finishes with a sheepish smile, tugging at the hem of his apron nervously.

Liam responds with the warmest smile he can muster, eyes crinkling. “You know, I’ve never had a proper cuppa before. Think you could make me one?”

Louis’ grin is positively blinding, and then he’s gone, flying about behind the counter, grabbing this jar and that stirrer, all the while sneaking surreptitious glances at Liam, as if to assure himself that he’s still there. Finally, and with much gusto, he brandishes a mug in front of Liam. “On the house,” he says, and Liam thinks Louis might vibrate out of his skin, he looks so happy. “Tell me what you think.”

Liam takes a sip, and his world changes.

“It’s perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!! I was having a harder time than expected with the prompts so I decided to stick with "my only requirement is a happy ending" and run where I may; I hope you don't mind. I'd feel bad about it being so short except the whole reason I signed up is that length is major struggle for me and I'm incredibly proud I even got it so long (though I am sorry if it feels rushed at all; I tried really hard to pace it out).
> 
> This was somewhat inspired by real-life events, so if anyone knows a British tree surgeon named James, please hmu ;))
> 
> Title from Beauty and the Beast, mostly because I had it stuck in my head almost the whole time I was writing this.


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